


Dolce&Gabbana

by nctoothies



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hybrids, M/M, death insinuation, i'm almost crying there, sex insinuation, snake hybrid jeno, someone help me please, spider hybrid jaemin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27401485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctoothies/pseuds/nctoothies
Summary: Jaemin loves that smell of Dolce&Gabbana that only Jeno have.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Kudos: 14





	Dolce&Gabbana

**Author's Note:**

> hey,  
> i just wanted to say, that i'm a newbie and my first language it's not english. so i'm sorry for all the mistakes, the wrong words and etc.  
> hope you like it ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡.

It was strange that feeling of the party cornering him and little by little filling him with that taste of fun, which everyone said they always felt. It was a new thing, people struggling on the dancefloor doing what they called dance, while opening wings in the corners of the walls for couples or strangers to kiss. Dirty and disposable glasses were visible and probably still with their drinks, hot and full of gas, maybe some narcotic - young people today are crazy.

  


Jaemin just watched it all, the colorful and well-drawn irises occasionally looked at the small human accumulation in the living room of his friend's house, immediately returning to the glass holding a half of water, humming and rattling with the pounding deafening sound of those dirty songs, full and covered with malice. The malice that young people liked. Everything was repetitive and it was as if he was living the same five minutes forever, from the entrance to that place until the moment when he found himself, standing still, just staring at the neon colors that mixed under the black light suspended poorly on the ceiling.

  


He bit the inside of his cheeks and heard the drumming of fabric nearby, using static to stir the hairs on his bare arms together with those on the back of his neck. The smell, homonymous with light embers and burned with the slight mixture of drops of honey, completely flooded his nostrils. And in a calm turn of the head, the eyes could find what they had been looking for, for a long, long time, so long that they could hardly be counted on their fingers; the time that was repeated and repeated with the fear that returned to fill the chest too quickly, stop, the cold that tickled the belly just in that sensitive region below the navel.

  


“Hey!” it was the only thing he heard before his brain shut down, his skin was delicately tanned, well contoured with the marks on his massive cheeks and his eyes were filled with glowing yellow. The thick lips, full of red, a red that could hardly be seen mixed in the dim and poorly positioned purple lights.

  


“Hey.” he replied as soon as he could, returning to keep that within himself controlled and under the reins.

  


“Don't act like you don't know who I am.” and with eight words he succumbed to despair slowly spilling him, pulling him to the bottom, the bottom of that awareness that he did not want to exist. “I know who you are, Jaemin. I could never forget you...” then the yellow lit up and his beautiful, kissable lips curved in a fine, complete line, causing yet another of those smiles that could shatter jaemin completely.

_ “You know, it's not like we're going to forget so easily.” the handsome boy said taking off his bow tie, which was already undone, throwing it somewhere over that rough leather chair. _

  


_ That dull and carnal desire that only the two understood, only the two knew it existed and it was possible to see each other, in the way they looked, touched, in the way they spoke. “It is our end.” he recited calmly, the Adam's apple rising his throat in an act of swallowing a handful of saliva that does not exist. _

  


_ The laughter echoed in the eardrums and, once again, the smell of hot and burning embers mixed with honey in a delicate way, an unforgettable, unmistakable smell. That burns and heals at the same time, like acid saliva on the skin, or a bite to the throat. _

  


_ “If this is the end of us, we will make it unforgettable.” the strange taste, the lips that touched, the clothes that fell slowly and the noises that no one could hear. The sweat, the skins, the touches, the passion. A burning and fiery love, like a candle that never goes out. _

  


_ Unless there is a breath, a breath that lives in sync with this candle, the only one capable of extinguishing it. _

  


“I missed you.” he sighed and approached, being able to have a better view of that so beautiful, so well done by the hands of the gods.

  


“Many years have passed. Many millennia..” he smiled and became closer, in a calculated and dangerous way. “How did you know that I would be here? I know how much you hate this kind of socialization.” the glass with pink liquid was left on the counter, a small caramelized cherry at the bottom, adorned by small air bubbles.

  


The liquid rocked a little and by sheer luck he could touch his lips, which Jaemin knew were soft and smooth. “I dreamed. I dreamed of you for a long, long time. Always in the same place, in the same pose, the same drink, the same bar, the same house. The same date.” the restless irises moved around, trying to pick up little by little each of those details that were lost with the movements and the dark light.

  


“What matters now is that I am here.. And no, it is not a dream.” the glass left again on the counter, slightly dusty and dirty from the traces of other drinks, the warm, delicate hand touching the thin cheek, the inviting palm that brought with it that delicious Dolce Gabbana perfume that always splashed all over its body.

  


“You still smell like Dolce and Gabbana Jeno.” he commented, closing his eyes smiling with the breath of hot air against his face, he could feel his skin, close, close, too close.

  


The low, but so soft and delicate laugh filled his ear audibly, while his cheeks brushed. “I got used very early, to get ready for the one I love.”

  


The wide, wide-open corridors seemed too tight at that point. Long and big, as if they never had an end, the doors became entangled, making it difficult to find anyone who did not hold noise behind them. The soft smell of orange with a few hints of cinnamon exuded from each of the pores of Jaemin, burned, blushed in heat and excitement. Just like jeno, which gave off its own odor acting as a narcotic for the other who was months younger.

  


Finally, when a place is found, the door is closed and locked and just like the last time, the clothes fall anywhere on the floor. The shirts on the carpet, pants and belts hitting the cold wood floor, a slightly troubling thud fills their ears but it should just be Jeno's cell phone.

  


And in that way, half uncontrolled and animalistic, full of a will and a taste hidden for more than a millennium, the two love each other again as if everything was repeated in a film, half old and blurred with the skins clashing, the sweat sticking together and the stupid smiles given between moans.

  


Incandescent yellow and amber red were mixed, like paints on a palette, slowly painting an empty canvas that was just a reproduction of what had been done in the past.

  


A new step perhaps? We will never know. But the lull that came later, like a tranquilizer dart in the two boys' chests, was a wonderful thing. A silent request to not end there, even if it was morning and one of the two, had to go.

  


“I.. can I mark you?” cloudy, condensed, a thought too dense to cross with something rational.

  


“You can.” two words, six letters, capable of defining a destination ahead.

  


A low roar, the faint squeak and the thin, white fangs that were visible in the moonlight that spied the little romance, the blood line, through the wooden cross of the window. Passionate looks and a love disguised there in the dark and in the hearts that beat hard, running like racehorses in the chest.

  


“Are you ready to go home?” the older one asked, staring at the shadow of the other raised against the single strand of light present in the room, staring at the rustle of hair and the light streak of light on sweaty skin.

  


“I was always ready.” a movement and the eyes shone again, before the last seal of lips and a deep sleep.

  


We will never know what will happen next, but even so, we hope the best will come. Because Jaemin will never want to stop feeling that specific and meticulous smell of Dolce Gabbana that only Jeno have.


End file.
